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Here they come. Annoying as people are in national parks and in particular when encountered in mobs in areas that should otherwise be desolate and quiet, I had to smile at these intrepid car-campers as they drove both Prius and mini-van for two hours down a 30-mile gnarly washboard road just to see a few sliding rocks. After this brief appreciation my resolve hardened that we push deeper into this wilderness. I didn't want to wake up again to the sound of portable generators powering grandma's pancake breakfast. No sir. This was Death Valley after all! I wanted to find the desolation that sent shivers of aloneness and fear through the souls of those first pioneers who crossed this area.